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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30051729">No One's Gonna Love You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingAldecaldo/pseuds/WanderingAldecaldo'>WanderingAldecaldo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Feels, Bisexual Female Character, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, No Beta we die like arasaka, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Spoilers, Tags Are Hard, The Star Ending (Cyberpunk 2077), V is a gonk, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:56:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,690</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30051729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingAldecaldo/pseuds/WanderingAldecaldo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>V studies his face, half shadow, half moonlit. He is handsome, now that she’s looking for it—once broken Roman nose, full, expressive lips, slate blue eyes now full of concern, the scar exaggerated by the shadows. How could she have missed this, missed him? So much time wasted.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female V/Mitch Anderson, Mitch Anderson/V (Cyberpunk 2077)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. This Modern Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      
<p></p><div>
  <p><br/><i>It's looking like a limb torn off<br/>Or altogether just taken apart<br/>We're reeling through an endless fall<br/>We are the ever-living ghost of what once was<br/></i><br/>Band of Horses, "No One's Gonna Love You"</p>
</div><p>So much love to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScorpioInk">ScorpioInk</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marshmallow_Mel">Marshmallow_Mel</a> for showing me I wasn't crazy for thinking there was something special about this minor character, and to all of Lizzie's for making this so much fun. ❤️</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
<p></p><div>
  <p><i>Don't get offended<br/>If I seem absent minded<br/>Just keep telling me facts<br/>And keep making me smile</i><br/><br/>Bloc Party, "This Modern Love"<br/><br/></p>
</div>This begins with We Gotta Live Together, the first mission of The Star ending. Spoilers for the ending, obviously. ;)</blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>V blinks, opens her eyes as her OS restarts from another crash. She looks at her hands then looks around. She’s in a parked truck in the desert, Panam’s truck, but the driver seat is empty. Movement from the other direction catches her eye and she turns to see Mitch in the open window. He smiles but it’s full of concern. His mouth starts moving but he isn’t making any sound. Then she realizes there isn't <em>any</em> sound, not even the buzz from the chip.</p>
<p>Maybe this latest crash took out her hearing, or even the entire language module as the visual translator doesn’t seem to be functioning either. Vik warned her about cascading system failure; what’s next? </p>
<p>Her breath comes faster but she can’t breathe, chest hurts, hands grip the dashboard, eyes dart around the truck until they settle on Mitch. His mouth is still moving and she still can’t hear what he’s saying but he’s reaching in with his synthetic arm, gently prying the fingers of her right hand from the dashboard and sliding his ‘ganic hand beneath her fingers, covers them with his silicone.</p>
<p>A message flickers in her field of view.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>[Mitch Anderson 09:22]:</b>
</p>
<p>You’re gonna be okay, just breathe</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s trying to, she’s trying, she’s gasping, she can’t breathe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>[Mitch Anderson 09:22]:</b>
</p>
<p>I’m not going anywhere, focus on my hand</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She focuses her attention on their hands resting on the sunlit dashboard, on the contrasting coolness of his silicone and the warmth of his flesh, and she squeezes reflexively. He squeezes back with rough, calloused fingers and strokes her hand with his silicone thumb. She follows the designs with her eyes and the pinpricks on her skin. As her chest eases she closes her eyes and her breaths begin to lengthen.</p>
<p>She looks at Mitch and he’s talking again, she’s not sure of the audience. When he realizes he has her attention, a small lopsided smile overtakes him before he resumes his conversation. She watches his mouth for a moment and a blanket of warmth spreads over her.</p>
<p>
  <em>POP!</em>
</p>
<p>Like a guitar being plugged into an amp the world is unmuted and turned on full blast. She screws her eyes shut and breathes as the volume slowly returns to normal levels.</p>
<p>“...and there we are, ten miles from camp, free and clear, when Panam decides she’s hungry and wants to stop for a burrito—”</p>
<p>She sees there is no audience, that he’s been talking to her this whole time. She tries to chuckle but her throat is dry as the desert and she coughs instead.</p>
<p>“Hey, Mitch.”</p>
<p>“Hey, kid,” he says quietly. He squeezes her hand once more and, to her disappointment, pulls back to the window. “Welcome back to the living.”</p>
<p>V isn't positive she can stand, doesn’t trust her legs yet, and Mitch doesn’t rush her. He asks about her “condition” and shows real concern. He has kind eyes. She likes how they crinkle when he smiles at her, the depth of the blue. She hasn’t noticed them before.</p>
<p>At last she feels ready to try her legs. She nods at him and opens the door. He waits until she is on steady legs before leading her to Panam and Saul.</p>
<p>“Sounds like there’s a war brewin’,” Mitch says with a sideways glance.</p>
<p>“Sorry, got no choice,” V says before she can stop herself, and she regrets it immediately. She had <em>several</em> choices. She <em>chose</em> the Aldecaldos.</p>
<p>She’s relieved when Mitch doesn’t let it slide. His tone is matter-of-fact as he reminds her just who comprises the Aldecaldos. He isn’t ripping into her for getting the family involved, he wants her to understand what’s at stake. These aren’t mercs, not even the cut-rate kind that hang out by Afterlife, hoping to get picked as a fourth gun on a poorly planned heist that will leave someone zeroed. These are kids and people raising families, and she’s asking them to take on the biggest, baddest corp with their dune buggies and pop guns.</p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck you for being right, Johnny. Least you’re not here to gloat about it.</em>
</p>
<p>The thought is a suckerpunch, knocks the air from her lungs. Her mind echoes without the bastard. She misses him, even if only to tell her how big a fuckup she is. Her field of vision glitches and she coughs, stumbles as the chip malfunctions. Luckily it’s just a hiccup and she scrambles quickly to recover her footing, unnoticed by Mitch.</p>
<p><em> Decision’s made, </em> Johnny would say. <em>Just follow the plan</em>.</p>
<p>Right now all V has to do is follow Mitch to see what crazy shit Panam and Saul have thrown together. She’s lagging behind him, however. Definitely some motor issues, better have the camp doc check her out after. Mitch lets her walk in silence the rest of the way. She appreciates it.</p>
<p>They stop at the edge of the tent where Saul and Panam square off across the table. Mitch is waiting for V’s glance, his mouth curling into a smirk as he pulls out a cigarette. She offers him a full smile in return, neither of them surprised by the scene. </p>
<p>Panam briefs them on the plan: break into a construction site guarded by Militech, steal a giant drill, drive it to Arasaka Tower, find Mikoshi, win. It’s not the most ridiculous plan V’s heard, but her scale is a little warped these days.</p>
<p>Panam and Mitch head off to continue prepping the Basilisk, leaving her alone with Saul. He asks what he can do to help. All she needs is a ’net connection and the ripper doc. Two hours later, she has accomplished both tasks. The lag in her gait this morning wasn’t imagined and, after he recalibrates her mobility system, she practically skips through camp, though she skirts around Dakota’s tent. The acrid scent of burnt plastic still lingers in her nostrils. She doubts Dakota will be speaking to her for some time.</p>
<p>Reviewing the Basilisk upgrades is the next step of the plan. She finds the guys discussing politics, Mitch on one knee, working and playing the moderate to Bobby and Teddy’s positions, while Panam ignores them and works at the nearby terminal.</p>
<p>“I swear, they only do this to rile each other up,” Panam says to V as she joins them.</p>
<p>“It’s just a friendly discussion, Pan,” Mitch tosses over his shoulder then turns to grin at the Aldecaldo standing behind him.</p>
<p>Suddenly time slows as V’s synaptic accelerator fires. Mitch’s gaze slides past Panam onto V herself. He’s kneeling by the Basilisk holding a wrench, and the software pulls her attention to his ‘ganic hand, highlighting both him and the wrench as he notices V.</p>
<p><em>Preem, better just pack the ‘doc in the panzer with us tomorrow</em>. </p>
<p>Nothing to do but ride out the glitch. Mitch’s grin morphs into a small o and his eyebrows raise in surprise, then another look crosses his features, something she can’t read. His eyes soften and mouth flattens as their gazes lock. He blinks and his mouth curves into a small smile. The synaptic accelerator disengages and time lurches back to full-speed and Mitch’s grin is back in place and he returns his attention to the Basilisk and the conversation with Bob and Teddy.</p>
<p>Blinking, V tries to turn her attention to Panam but she’s having a hard time concentrating on whatever Panam is showing her. Panam stops to take a call and V’s gaze drifts over her shoulder to Mitch. He’s standing now, leaning against the panzer, and he pulls out a cigarette and lighter. He dips his head to the flame and his eyes flick up to her face and back to the flame just as quickly.</p>
<p>“I’ll be right there.” Panam ends her call and nods at Mitch, saying, “Make sure she finds Saul when you’re done.”</p>
<p>“Yes, ma’am,” Mitch says, throwing a lazy salute with his cigarette.</p>
<p>Panam squeezes V’s shoulder as she passes, and V can’t stop it, her head rotates on a swivel following her departure. Mitch is full-on smirking at V when she turns her attention back, and her cheeks flush. He lets her off the hook by launching into his updates on the Basilisk. Surely it is understood in the camp how much Panam’s presence disrupts productivity.</p>
<p>Mitch loves to talk about the panzer, and he happily answers her questions about the modifications, even seems impressed with a few of them. V asks to take her out on a test run but he puts it off until later.</p>
<p>“We still have a few loose screws to tighten,” he says.</p>
<p>“That’s putting it mildly,” Bob drawls. </p>
<p>“Will you stop being such a sourpuss? We’ll have her ready in time,” Mitch retorts. “Any other questions? Otherwise I’m supposed to get you to Saul.”</p>
<p>V shakes her head and they head back up the hill to camp. He sets an easy pace.</p>
<p>“How ya feelin’? Get everything checked out?”</p>
<p>“Nova,” she says. From the look she catches, he doesn’t believe her, not that he should, given what he’s seen from her today. “What’s Saul want, anyway?”</p>
<p>“No idea.”</p>
<p>It’s her turn for disbelief but she does press him. “Bullshit, bet not much happens in this camp you don’t know about.”</p>
<p>He laughs hard and says, “Keepin’ up-to-date with local news, l like to call it.”</p>
<p>“So then update <em>me</em>,” she whines. “I hate surprises.”</p>
<p>Something makes him stop and momentum carries her a few paces forward so she turns around to look at him. He stands with his hands on hips, lips in a thin line as he studies her.</p>
<p>“What?” she asks. When he doesn’t respond immediately, she frowns. She can’t imagine what surprise would require this much consideration for him to spill it.</p>
<p>“Okay, but!” Mitch says at last, holding up his silicone hand, and V grins at him, giddy at his indulgence. “But you gotta act surprised when he tells you.”</p>
<p>“Yes, absolutely! I will absolutely act surprised!”</p>
<p>“Saul’s gonna give you your jacket. Gonna be part of the family!”</p>
<p>“No fuckin’ way,” V says.</p>
<p>“Yes, fuckin’ way,” he counters. “And well deserved, too. Who in this family haven’t you saved yet?”</p>
<p>“Fuck, choom... I don’t know what to say.”</p>
<p>“Good thing you don’t have to say anything, just put on the damn jacket,” Mitch says with a grin.</p>
<p>This morning V woke not knowing how she was going to get to Mikoshi, or even where she was, and now she’s gonna be part of the family willing to risk death for her. Eyes stinging with tears, she throws her arms around him, her hands clasping together behind his neck, and presses the side of her face against his shoulder. After the smallest hesitation his arms envelop her.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Mitch,” she says. “For all of it.”</p>
<p>“No problem, kid,” he says, his voice ruffling her hair with his warm breath.</p>
<p>Mitch’s grip on her is just right—neither too firm nor too loose, perfectly solid and comforting. One arm wraps around her shoulders, the ‘ganic one because she can feel the calluses of his fingers on her bare shoulders, and the other around her midsection, his hand firmly settled between her spine and ribs, thumb rubbing idly. Maybe it’s the lack of physical comfort lately but she struggles to remember a better hug.</p>
<p>At last she begins to loosen her wrists and withdraw from the hug, and her face rotates toward him, her temple brushing against the scruff of his beard. With a step backward Mitch disengages from her. His face is inscrutable again, but only for a moment before he grins at her, cocking his head to indicate they should get going.</p>
<p>“Remember, all you gotta do is say you’re surprised, honored, something like that,” he says as they start walking. “Offering to buy a round usually goes over well, too.”</p>
<p>Mitch needn't have worried about her response. Moments later, as Saul pulls V up onto the bed of the truck in front of the whole camp, she is again overwhelmed with emotion as she surveys the crowd, many of them her friends. Her optics tremble as the Relic malfunctions, and her chest tightens. </p>
<p><em>Not now, please,</em> she prays, shifting her weight to lean against Saul and he accommodates her, wrapping her in an arm of comradeship as he recounts her heroics to the audience.</p>
<p>V scans faces until she finds Mitch, not quite front and center. Eyes radiating pride, he watches her with the barest hint of a smile. The optical jitters smooth as her breathing calms. She realizes she’s been staring when he winks at her. The tightness in her chest slips lower into her belly, and her eyes dart away. If her cheeks weren’t already ablaze from the attention of the crowd they certainly would be now.</p>
<p>Saul concludes his speech and throws their hands up in the air in a dramatic gesture. A few scattered cheers answer, then Panam appears with the jacket and V nearly cries. </p>
<p>She takes the jacket carefully, as if cradling a newborn, then holds it up and admires the craftsmanship, focusing on the jacket rather than Panam’s exaltations that she doesn’t deserve. Almost everything V has done for the Aldecaldos has been for herself. The leather is soft, supple, and stretches just perfectly across her shoulders as she slips it on. She twists and turns experimentally. The sleeves roll up past her Mantis Blades. It’s literally perfect.</p>
<p>“Enjoy yourself tonight, but make sure you get some rest,” Saul says, clapping her on the shoulder before dropping to the ground.</p>
<p>The crowd begins to disperse, including Mitch to her disappointment. She knows he’s still got work to do on the Basilisk but still. Panam is beaming up at her from the ground so she shifts her attention.</p>
<p>V says, “Coulda given me a heads up about this.”</p>
<p>Panam holds up her hand and V grabs it and tries to jump from the truck but her legs aren’t moving into position underneath her body as quickly as they should and she knows she’s going to hit the ground, only question is how bad will it hurt.</p>
<p>“Are you kidding?” Panam asks, oblivious to V’s fall in realtime. “And ruin all the fun?”</p>
<p>Her left ankle bears the brunt of her weight when she lands, and she collapses to her hands and knees. Panam rushes to help her up but V is stubborn and waves her off.</p>
<p>“Hey, you alright?”</p>
<p>“It’s nothing,” V says, giving a cursory swipe at the dirt on the knees of her cargo pants. “Don’t worry about it.”</p>
<p>Panam doesn’t argue, and instead sends V on her way to enjoy her party. V weaves through the Aldecaldos, some rowdy, most drunk, all wanting to congratulate the newest member of the family. She exchanges brief words and nods, sometimes just raises her hand in acknowledgement.</p>
<p>“V!” </p>
<p>She turns at her name and sees Teddy sitting with Carol and Bobby. She feels a pang of disappointment that Mitch isn’t with them, but of course he isn’t. She feels a pang of something else but ignores it.</p>
<p>The veterans invite her to join their pre-raid ritual, which really just looks like drinking to her. These days V never turns down a drink so she sits, pops the cap and takes a deep swig, wiping at her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket. It’s good stuff. Strong stuff. She takes another swig.</p>
<p>“It’s one of the last bottles from our very first run,” Teddy says in between sips. “We kept a few crates, for good luck.”</p>
<p>“What was it someone said back then?” Bob asks the others, but Carol shakes her head and Teddy shrugs. “Shit, can’t remember who. Anyway, someone said, ‘When we finish ‘em all, the Aldecaldo’s luck will run out.’”</p>
<p>V shivers, suddenly not so excited to finish the beer.</p>
<p>“Ahhh, superstitious bullcrap is your hobby,” Teddy scoffs, waving his hand at Bob, and Carol teases them both.</p>
<p>The ease of friendship, the back-and-forth between the vets is a balm to her heart. After her time with Jackie, it’s been hard being a solo, not having anyone she can trust. Now she has the Aldecaldos.</p>
<p>Talk turns to Saul and Panam, with Teddy trying to get V’s insight. She turns it back on them to get their takes on it, and then avoids the subject altogether by asking how they’re doing. She hangs around for a while but a heavy unease has settled in her stomach along with the beer, and eventually she makes her excuses and slips from the table. </p>
<p>She’s tired of the weight of Saul’s looks whenever she glances over her shoulder, and the weight of the souls of the very people celebrating her at this moment, these friends. She has to get out of here.</p>
<p><em>The fuck have I done, Johnny? The fuck do I do now?</em> </p>
<p><em>Just stick with the plan</em>, she thinks. Like the plan to steal the Relic. Or the plan that led Johnny to ‘saka Tower.</p>
<p>Next step is to find Mitch. He promised a test drive of the Basilisk, so maybe she can do one fucking thing today that’s actually useful. Failing that, she’ll find Panam and get good and drunk. As she’s already on her way to drunk, she considers skipping to the end. Then she thinks about the time Mitch has put into the panzer today alone, and then she sees him wink, and there’s that tightness in her stomach again. She prods at it, turns the feeling over in her mind and weighs it for a moment, then sets it aside. Whatever it is, now isn’t the time.</p>
<p>But when she approaches the tent and catches his eye across the Panzer and his lips lift into that easy smirk, her stomach bolts for her esophagus. Seems now <em>is</em> the time. </p>
<p>He’s leaning against the crates by the terminal, arms crossed and a cigarette pinched between his flesh fingers, couple of crumpled cans behind him. She didn’t see him at the party earlier. She certainly hadn’t been watching the crowd trying to locate him, especially when she already knew where he was.</p>
<p>“Hey, how go things?” Mitch asks and raises the cigarette to his lips, cherry glowing with his inhale, and her eyes linger after his hand lowers. He has nice lips.</p>
<p>“Good, really good, in fact.” She is flustered and it is taking all of her cool to keep her voice level. “How about you?”</p>
<p>“I’m trying to get the panzer running. She’s stubborn, our dame, but I won’t give either,” he says with a twinkle. “So, time for a ride?”</p>
<p><em>You or the panzer? Both?</em> V is taken aback by the ferocity of the thought, and the jolt it sends through her system. She remembers her first ride in the panzer back when thirsted desperately for Panam. That went fine. She’s just friends with Mitch, she’ll be fine.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she says with a nervous laugh. This is fine. “I’m game.”</p>
<p>“Hop in.”</p>
<p>V scrambles onto the panzer and drops into the support seat and takes a deep breath as she grabs the input. Mitch is right behind her. She gets that weird double-vision sensation as he jacks in, but she closes her eyes and it passes quickly. The anxiety in the pit of her stomach doesn’t pass, however, and it drips into the feedback system, sending ripples into the stream between them, and of course he feels it.</p>
<p>“You okay?” he asks, the glow from the internal lighting amplifying the concern on his face.</p>
<p>“Yeah, nova. Just takes a sec to get used to is all. Where we headed?”</p>
<p>Mitch directs them to a nearby scrapyard, Bobby’s suggestion for trying out the new homing missiles they installed earlier in the day. Luckily driving the panzer requires enough concentration that it crowds out all other thoughts and V starts lighting up the wrecked vehicles. The aiming module is off a few degrees to the left but, before she can complain, Mitch has already noticed it and begins recalibrations. V keeps shooting and the third volley strikes dead on target. After a handful more successful attacks on wreckage, Mitch is satisfied, at least with the missiles. </p>
<p>“Yeah, beautiful. I’ll have to check before tomorrow if her guts are tight and firm. Something just don’t sound right to my ear.”</p>
<p>The panzer comes to a standstill as V coughs and she struggles not to think about Mitch and tight guts, so she leans into the cough, hacking and wiping at her mouth.</p>
<p>“Hey, you alright?” </p>
<p>Concern floods the system, and she knows he’s looking at her because she sees herself leaning forward, face in hands, and then she is looking at him and the visual feedback overwhelms her and she forces her focus on controlling the panzer before she actually does cause a chip malfunction.</p>
<p>“’s okay, just the chip.”</p>
<p>She takes them back to camp where Mitch insists on parking, and she is happy to oblige. He hops down from the Basilisk, grabs a beer from a cooler on the ground, and props himself up on a workbench. </p>
<p>V follows behind him. She doesn’t know what to say so she asks if he’s nervous tomorrow, like he’s some baby-faced gonk heading out on his first mission.</p>
<p>“Not a matter of nerves anymore,” he says and gestures at the cooler. She realizes he hasn’t touched his beer yet, that he’s waiting for her. “Want one?”</p>
<p>She accepts and catches the can he tosses, opens it and taps it against Mitch’s. They both drink deeply. </p>
<p>After a beat, he tells her about the “training,” a.k.a. chem-cocktails, he received for stress management during the Unification War. It’s the first time he’s talked to her about his time with Militech. When she asks about the prevalence of cyberpsychosis, his tone is bitter as he recounts Militech’s strategy for treatment: just spend enough eddies and the problem goes away. She wonders if that strategy included his arm. She forgets he isn’t the happy-go-lucky guy he presents himself to be. He falls silent and takes another long drink.</p>
<p>His current slouch disguises a wiry frame, and it also brings him closer to V’s eye level. He is focused on the beer in his hand, lost in thought. He looks tired. She wonders when he last slept. Certainly not since she did.</p>
<p>The silence between them is comfortable. Neither rush to fill it.</p>
<p>“So, that mean you’re not afraid of anything?” V asks eventually. Another gonk question, just to get him talking again.</p>
<p>“Heh, if only it were that simple.”</p>
<p>If only <em>anything</em> were that simple. </p>
<p>He drains his beer and crumples the can. When he answers, he avoids the question and brings it back to camp gossip. “I’m not concerned about tomorrow—raids like that are second nature. It’s what’s going on in the camp...”</p>
<p>He pulls out his cigarettes and she stares, fascinated. He does that thing again where he dips his head to the flame and glances up at her as he does, and the look bypasses all thought processes and goes straight to her core. While the primal side of her brain pumps hormones into her body, the part that can still think coherently is baffled. She likes beefy guys, pretty guys. Mitch is neither.</p>
<p>“Ah, forget it, I’m just gossiping now.”</p>
<p>Mitch cuts himself off, as if he hasn’t dangled a tasty tidbit in front of her, and V swallows it gladly.</p>
<p>“C’mon, I’m family now, tell me.”</p>
<p>That’s all the encouragement he needs and he lets loose. Of course, it’s Panam and Saul because that’s all anyone can talk about, but she doesn’t mind hearing it from him. He’s known them both longer than anyone else, and she values his measured thoughts. And she wants a reason to stand here with him.</p>
<p>“There’s gossip spreading like wildfire already—that Saul won’t pull through, that he’s in it for himself. That this family needs a shake-up.”</p>
<p>From his tone of voice, she suspects he hasn’t shared these thoughts with anyone else in camp but, then again, she doesn’t know how close he is to the other vets. Maybe he doesn’t have anyone since losing Scorpion.</p>
<p>“What about you?”</p>
<p>“What about me?” Mitch asks, her eyes following the path of the cigarette as he takes a drag.</p>
<p>He’s being obtuse so she pushes back. “Gotta have an opinion. Are they right? Should Saul step down?”</p>
<p>“We’ll see how things look tomorrow, once the smoke has cleared,” he says, refusing to be pinned down. “Your turn—what do you reckon?”</p>
<p>What <em>does</em> V think? Her love for Panam doesn’t blind her from Panam’s defects.</p>
<p>“I dunno, I’d hoped Panam would grow up a little.”</p>
<p>He laughs sharply. “Oh yeah? Into whom?”</p>
<p>“C’mon, it’s obvious she should be leading the clan. She’s proven it, and the clan loves her.”</p>
<p>“Only thing she’s proved is she loves the clan. Just don’t confuse that with wanting power.”</p>
<p>She hasn’t thought about it like that. He takes another drag and this time her gaze lingers on his mouth, and he gives her more to think about.</p>
<p>“Yeah, okay, so Panam’s about the family, but not the power. Can she reconcile the two?”</p>
<p>“Don’t look at me,” he says, taking another drag, but she suspects he does have an opinion. She’s right, and when he speaks again his voice is low. “Way I see it, Panam is so hell-bent on helping you that she doesn’t see it like Saul does—he’s seeing the eddies.” </p>
<p>“All that loot from Mikoshi.”</p>
<p>“Bingo. We pull this off, we get some of that sweet Arasaka tech, that sets us up real nice down south. Follow?”</p>
<p>“And Panam loses her chance at leadership.”</p>
<p>“If she hasn’t lost it already. Tomorrow goes to plan, the family’s set for the short-term and Saul gets to be the hero because, let’s be honest, most of the family don’t give two shits about you.”</p>
<p>V laughs, “No offense.”</p>
<p>“I said most,” he says, taking a drag, lips crafting a smirk, and her breath hitches. “Tell me I’m wrong, that they’re gonna care more about getting you into Mikoshi than getting that gear out.”</p>
<p>He’s not wrong.</p>
<p>“But things go sideways...” He trails off.</p>
<p>“Then it’s on Panam. She’s the one who brought this outsider into the family. <em>Fuck</em>,” V breathes.</p>
<p>“Exactly. Saul knows what he’s doing. Let’s just hope he hasn’t overplayed his hand.” He pauses. “Okay, we’ve gossiped enough. Listen, stays between us, okay?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, ’course.”</p>
<p>He takes one final pull on the cigarette and drops it beneath his boot. “I’m ’onna poke around some more in this baby’s insides.”</p>
<p>“I’ll let you poke around in my insides,” V mutters. </p>
<p>Immediately her brain catches up to her raging hormones and she freezes, her eyes growing wide. Mitch coughs, smoke billowing from his mouth, and he doubles over, the coughing morphing into wheezing laughter. V wonders if the Basilisk will crush her or simply hover over her if she were to stand in front of it. At last he stands up straight, wiping his eyes, whacks his chest with his prosthetic hand.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”</p>
<p>“I know you didn’t mean it.”</p>
<p>“—say it out loud,” she finishes and, once it registers what he said, she wants to tunnel to Arasaka Tower herself, alone, with her Mantis Blades, right now. “Y’know, like ‘That’s what she said,’ or something.”</p>
<p>“’S okay, V, I get it,” Mitch says, still chuckling as he heads to the bank of monitors on the other side of the tent, and he dismisses her with a wave of his organic hand. “Go on, go have fun with Panam.”</p>
<p>V slinks away from the tent in shame and climbs the steep path that overlooks camp. The air is cool against her still burning cheeks. At the top of the hill she looks around, feeling exposed by the stretching landscape, the empty space. Panam sits ahead of her watching the camp below.</p>
<p>“There she is,” Panam calls and pats the ground beside her. “How ya feeling?”</p>
<p>“Tired,” V says and collapses beside her friend, leans her head on Panam’s shoulder, and Panam leans back. “Been a long day.”</p>
<p>“Got another one coming up tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Whaddya got to drink up here?”</p>
<p>Panam passes over whisky and V drinks straight from the bottle, a long pull and then another, then she wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her other hand.</p>
<p>“Tell me this isn’t a mistake. Because it feels like an epic fucking mistake.”</p>
<p>Panam turns to face V and grabs her free hand. Panam’s face, lit from the fires in camp and the moon above, is hopeful and so goddamn earnest. It makes V feel worse.</p>
<p>“This is not a mistake. You’re family, V. This is what we do for family.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” she says, forcing a smile and squeezing Panam’s hand. She isn’t convinced, but probably nothing will convince her shy of standing in Mikoshi with Alt and the Aldecaldos.</p>
<p><em>Just follow the plan</em>. <em>Getting drunk with Panam, done. Now what?</em> Her gaze drifts back toward the tent with Mitch and the panzer.</p>
<p>Panam follows her gaze and says, “Nervous about tomorrow? Mitch’ll have her ready, don’t worry.”</p>
<p>“Nervous about tomorrow” is the easy escape hatch, but when does she ever choose easy? Besides, maybe Panam’ll have some insight into this madness in her head.</p>
<p>“It’s not that. I need your advice.” </p>
<p>“Of course!”</p>
<p>“So say you’ve got this good friend, great friend, actually,” V adds, because Mitch deserves the upgrade. “And this friend is always there for you, always got your back, no questions asked, day or night.”</p>
<p>Panam holds up her hand. “Wait...”</p>
<p>“And this friend, one day you notice that they have nice eyes, and that you like the way they smile at you and they have <em>really</em> nice lips, and then before you know it you’re making passes at them—”</p>
<p>“V, listen,” Panam interrupts, insistent this time, her hand on V’s knee. “You’re my best friend, I love you, you know that, right? And I know you’re really worried about tomorrow but I can’t. It’s just not who I am.”</p>
<p>V stares for Panam for a second then covers her face with her hands and laughs. </p>
<p>Panam continues, oblivious to V’s laughter. “Trust me, I wish I was into women, it would make my life so much simpler but—” Panam moves her hand to V’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”</p>
<p>V doubles over and howls in laughter, tears streaming down her face. When she can finally breathe again she wipes her eyes with her tank and asks, “What the fuck, Pan? Not talking about you, fuckin’ gonk!”</p>
<p>Panam gawps for a moment then states, “You’re not.”</p>
<p>“No! Jesus Christ, Panam, yes! I would still bang you in a fucking heartbeat but you have made your position on that abundantly clear.”</p>
<p>While that admission partially satisfies Panam, she needs to know the rest of the detes. “Okay, but spill it! Who? Saul? Is it Bobby? He’s got that voice!”</p>
<p>Suddenly V flinches. Speaking the words means it’s real. Panam taps her lightly on the leg. “It’s Mitch.”</p>
<p>Panam squeals like a teenager and V smacks her on the shoulder, but that doesn’t stop the squealing. “<em>Oh my god</em>, V, that is amazing!”</p>
<p>“Is it though?” Because it feels like she wants to vomit.</p>
<p>“What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t it be?”</p>
<p>“Because it’s Mitch, not some fucking lowlife that I don’t give two eddies about seeing ever again!”</p>
<p>“What, you think he’s not interested? I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you aren’t watching. It’s fucking disgusting.” V’s head snaps around and Panam quickly adds, “No, not like that, just like, I dunno, he can’t get enough.”</p>
<p>“No way, fuckin’ know it if he’s into me, and he’s not. I’m, like, his little sister or something.”</p>
<p>“V, I’ve known that man for years. Maybe he’s never told me but he’s crazy about you.”</p>
<p>“Don’t believe you,” V says but her voice betrays the modicum of hope she feels.</p>
<p>“I dunno, maybe you’re right. Maybe he thinks of you as his sister, that you’re too young, or you don’t like dick. Or maybe he’s just a guy who doesn’t push himself on hot women uninvited because that’s what creeps do and he’s not a fucking creep,” Panam says, throwing up her hands and rolling her eyes. “But if you wanna know you’re gonna have to ask him.”</p>
<p>V lets out a guttural whine. “Panam, what do I do?”</p>
<p>“The fuck you asking me for? You’ve slept with more people in the whole month I’ve known you than I have in the last six. Grow a fucking uterus and make the first move. <em> He’ll </em> never do it,” Panam says, gesturing in Mitch’s direction.</p>
<p>V might be facing death tomorrow but there are fates worse than death. “And if you’re wrong?”</p>
<p>“Then it’ll be super awkward and you’ll have to leave the family. Sorry, don’t make the rules,” Panam says with an easy shrug. V swings again and Panam dodges effortlessly. “Okay, but wait, hold on, you said you made a pass at him. What happened? This is important information.”</p>
<p>“Said he needed to quote poke around in this baby’s guts and I said—”</p>
<p>“Nooo,” Panam giggles, covering her mouth.</p>
<p>“Maybe he could poke around in my guts, too, or something.”</p>
<p>She squeals with delight. “And then?”</p>
<p>“Then he laughed his ass off and I died.”</p>
<p>Panam giggles again.  “Just go talk to him, V.”</p>
<p>“Maybe,” she says sullenly. Panam’s elbow jabs into that sensitive spot in V’s ribs that produces equal parts pleasure and pain. She yields immediately, twisting away and crying out, “Okay, fuck!”</p>
<p>“Thank you! You’re so wound up right now, you could use some release.”</p>
<p>“What about you? You gonna get some sleep?”</p>
<p>“This is doing me some good,” she says with a sigh. “Think I’ll stick around here for a bit.”</p>
<p>V stays for a few more minutes, shoulder-to-shoulder with Panam. In a lifetime full of life-defining moments, this feels like the big one. Her new family in front of her, the city she grew up looming in the background. AVs flicker to the east, carrying straphangers home after their long days in the city. </p>
<p>Would she miss Night City this time? In Atlanta she dreamed about home nightly and how she would “make it,” back before her contact was starred in the phones of all the fixers in town and her name sent shivers down the spine of gangoons. She has given everything to the city, but nothing can slake its thirst.</p>
<p>
  <em>If Jackie had just kept the chip—</em>
</p>
<p>She shoves the thought away. There’s no going back, only forward, and that path leads away from Night City. There is nothing left for her here now, except maybe to make sure Claire knows the recipe for “The V.” </p>
<p>“Thanks, Pan,” V says, squeezing her friend’s shoulders once more before pushing to her feet. </p>
<p>“You’ll be fine, V, I promise.” </p>
<p>V doesn't know if she’s talking about the chip or Mitch. She chooses to believe both. She takes one last look at the Night City skyline, then heads down the dirt path and turns away from camp. </p>
<p>Mitch stands with his back to her, typing away at the terminal beside the panzer. She can still run away. How is it she can face down a warehouse full of Tyger Claws with nerves of steel but not him? Ultimately the idea of admitting her cowardice to Panam propels her into the tent. V shuffles her feet to announce her arrival. Her stealth skills are passable at best but no reason to scare him.</p>
<p>“Hey, Mitch,” she says when he starts to turn. </p>
<p>Even though she has steeled herself for it, when she sees the spark of recognition cross his features and his lips start to quirk, her chest tightens and a warmth spreads from her cheeks to her belly.</p>
<p>“Heh, you’re back. Can’t get enough of me today.”</p>
<p>“Guess so,” she says, returning his smile. If only he knew.</p>
<p>“Where’s Panam?”</p>
<p>“Needs some quiet time.” V shrugs.</p>
<p>“Think I got that rattle taken care of. Was just about to take her out again.” He looks at her for a moment then raises an eyebrow. “Wanna come?”</p>
<p>Like Pavlov’s dog, her mouth waters and she shifts her weight around, squeezes her thighs together against the sudden pulse that rocks her body.</p>
<p>“Sure,” she bites out.</p>
<p>Thanks to her circulatory system scrubbers, the last of the whisky is still coursing through her system so her head is mostly clear, even if her stomach is queasy and heart pounding. She drops into the co-pilot seat and jacks in. She’s about to blow out the feedback system. Good a way as any to tell someone you’re into them.</p>
<p>Mitch is right behind her. V’s jaw clenches and she closes her eyes as he jacks in, breathes deeply as her anxiety flares through the feedback. She sees-feels him reach out with his mechanical arm and lightly grasp her wrist. His touch sends thrills up her arm and a wave of relief cascades across the system.</p>
<p>“Good?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she says, and the cacophony recedes. Risking a glance at him, she looks at him looking at her and they smile simultaneously. “Same as last time?”</p>
<p>“Sure. Just wanna take her over some rough terrain to listen for that rattle. Put ’er through the paces.”</p>
<p>“Got it.”</p>
<p>V eases the panzer out of the tent—no need to put any unnecessary scratches on Mitch’s baby—and takes them back to the scrapyard. She lights up one wreck with the homing missiles while strafing and firing at another with the main gun, and trains the missiles on yet a third. Mitch whoops and she beams with pride and allows the panzer to slow to an idle.</p>
<p>“Nice maneuvering there.”</p>
<p>V blushes and ducks the compliment. “How’d she do?”</p>
<p>“Better. Not perfect, but she’ll do.”</p>
<p>“Good.”</p>
<p>V doesn’t know what to say. She really should have taken a second to come up with any kind of plan before she walked into the tent. Seems to be a recurring theme in her life.</p>
<p>“Wanna tell me what’s goin’ on with you?”</p>
<p>Mitch’s question shocks her back to the present and she looks at him. “Whaddya mean?”</p>
<p>The blue of the instrument panel softens the lines of his face but he isn’t smiling, not really, and there’s an intensity to his gaze that she hasn’t seen before. It makes her tremble. Finally he says, “You’ve been watching me all day.”</p>
<p>“How d’you know?” she blurts. Immediately she is embarrassed in equal parts by her gonk response and his observation of her gonk behavior and buries her face in her hands. Before that emotion can take hold of the feedback system, something else overpowers it, an amalgam of feelings that she can only grasp at before it settles into waves of general satisfaction.</p>
<p>V can hear the smirk in his voice. “Gonna let you figure that one out on your own.”</p>
<p>Again she sees-feels his hand moving, and he rests it tentatively on her shoulder. A drop of hope colors the feedback system and her hands slide from her face. He’s still watching her with the same intensity but smirking now, too, and she bites her lip as desire flushes her cheeks. </p>
<p>“Hey, V.” He leans in a little, his voice dropping. “Can I kiss you?”</p>
<p>The feedback system is overwhelmed as the bomb she’s been carrying all day in her chest detonates, and words pour from her mouth without comprehension.</p>
<p>“Yes, kiss me, please—”</p>
<p>His hand slides up the leather of her jacket and his fingers ghost along her jaw until they reach the back of her head, fingers twining with her hair. She can’t tell if she’s moving under her own power or if he’s drawing her to him, but his face is centimeters from hers. She closes the distance between them, and his lips really <em>are</em> that nice—full, soft, yielding.</p>
<p>She raises her hand to his face, stubble scraping the flesh of her palm. Her fingers trail the scar on his cheek and his lips part, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, and V’s open in response with a silent sigh. Her hand slips to the back of his neck, into his soft downy hair and she pulls his mouth harder against hers.</p>
<p>Suddenly his ’ganic arm is around her and he’s pulling her over to his lap, his other hand now cradling the crown of her head from cracking against the panzer’s ceiling.</p>
<p>“This okay?” he breathes, looking up at her. His lips are swollen, eyes heavy as they move between hers and her lips.</p>
<p>“Preem,” V says, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kisses him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry not sorry for the ending but there will be smut. This was a loooong chapter, longer than the rest will *probably* be, but who knows, this man owns my soul.</p>
<p>There's some borrowed dialogue from the game, especially with the vets, and a lot of paraphrased as well for those unfamiliar with The Star ending. If you think it's from the game, chances are it is.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Forget About Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p></p><div>
  <p><i><br/>When the phases of the moon they don't apply<br/>When accomplishing a simple task takes several tries<br/>Did you want to forget about life?<br/>Did you want to forget about life with me tonight?<br/>Underneath this flickering light<br/></i><br/>Alvvays, "Forget About Life"</p>
</div>Update to Chapter 1: I forgot to include title notes so feel free to review.<p>Also, let's get this out of the way. I said last chapter that the following chapters would likely be shorter. This one is 600 words longer. I will no longer predict how future chapters will turn out, other than to say they <b>will</b> be completed.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, V.” Mitch leans in a little, his voice dropping. “Can I kiss you?”</p><p>The feedback system is overwhelmed as the bomb she’s been carrying all day in her chest detonates, and words pour from her mouth without comprehension.</p><p>“Yes, kiss me, please—”</p><p>His hand slides up the leather of her jacket and his fingers ghost along her jaw until they reach the back of her head, fingers twining with her hair. She can’t tell if she’s moving under her own power or if he’s drawing her to him, but his face is centimeters from hers. She closes the distance between them, and his lips really <em>are</em> that nice—full, soft, yielding.</p><p>She raises her hand to his face, stubble scraping the flesh of her palm. Her fingers trail the scar on his cheek and his lips part, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, and V’s open with a silent sigh. Her hand slips to the back of his neck, into his soft downy hair and she pulls his mouth harder against hers. He tastes like cigarettes and beer. She grazes her teeth on his bottom lip.</p><p>Suddenly his ’ganic arm is around her waist and he’s pulling her over to his lap with a strength she never expected, his other hand now cradling the crown of her head from cracking against the panzer’s ceiling. He drops his seat a couple of degrees, allowing her a few precious inches of headroom. </p><p>“This okay?” Mitch breathes, looking up at her astride his lap, brushes hair back from her face in an intimate gesture. His lips are even more delectable after kissing her, and his eyelids heavy as his gaze moves between her eyes and lips. V has never felt more desired in her life.</p><p>“Preem,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck as she leans into him and kisses him deeply.</p><p>His hands move to her hips, his thumbs caressing the line where her pants and skin meet before ghosting up her ribs where he makes contact with that delicate stretch of skin that makes her brain explode into a million sparks of pain and pleasure. She jerks backward and her skull bangs against the interior of the panzer. Mitch winces as he receives a taste of her pain.</p><p>“Shit, you okay? We can stop,” he says, the system flooding with his concern and his hands moving to rest on her clothed legs.</p><p>She is leaning back on her knees, one hand rubbing the spot on her head that still smarts, the other resting on his chest. Her breath catches at the care on his face, at the control he’s exerting over his own physical desires as evidenced by the length of erection pressing against her thigh. </p><p>After weeks of her autonomy being questioned, even bullied, by friends, strangers, and the ghost of a dead rockerboy, this is what she craves—someone to ask her, and to care about, what she wants. She rubs the back of her fingers along his stubbled cheek then trails her thumb along the same path before grabbing the back of his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips.</p><p>“Nah, just ticklish.” Keeping her eyes on his, V takes his organic hand, holds it against the skin of her hip and slides it up her ribs until his thumb grazes the swell of her breast and his fingers the tuft of hair in her armpit. “Gotta be firm here is all. Don’t need any unnecessary combat wounds tonight.”</p><p>“Just the sides? Got it,” Mitch says, eyes still locked with hers, breath quick. “Any other danger zones I gotta watch out for?”</p><p>“Not that I know of,” she says, letting go of his hand. “Let you know if you discover any new ones.”</p><p>Mitch's lips fall open as V leans down, and she kisses him deeply. His organic hand eases around to cup her breast before running a rough thumb over her nipple, rewarding him with a sigh against his mouth. His other hand slides along the side of her thigh to her ass, grabbing a fistful of the soft flesh and pulling her against him. His erection strains against his coveralls and V grinds against him, eliciting a groan. The sound thrills her and, wanting nothing more than to be the cause of it again, she shoves a hand between them and palms his hard-on. Mitch groans again, bucks against her, and his fingers dig into her flesh.</p><p>Pulling away to inspect her handiwork, V is intoxicated by the mix of her own pleasure and Mitch’s coursing through the feedback system, and from the desire on his face. Bringing her back to the present, his hand on her ass slides inward, brushing against the seam of her cargo pants, and her eyelids flutter at his touch. When her eyes can once again focus, he’s smirking at her. V’s seen that smirk a hundred times but, coupled with the desire in his eyes, it makes her want to do all sorts of things. She starts with reaching for her pants. </p><p>Before she can make any progress Mitch stills her hands then pushes them away, assuming responsibility for her pants. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he pops the button and lowers the zipper, then shoves the pants down over her hips, just enough to slide his organic hand in between them and her panties. </p><p>When he cups her mound and squeezes gently, her head rolls back with a sigh and he seizes the opportunity to grab her neck and ply it with open-mouth kisses, sucking at the spot where her pulse is pounding. Her panties are drenched. He slips his hand inside them and again cups her mound before dragging a finger along her slit, already slick with desire. </p><p>“Jesus, V,” he moans, the tip of his finger easing into her folds, “you’re so fucking wet.”</p><p>Delirious, V kisses him as his finger slides in just a bit deeper before returning to brush against her already swollen clit. She gasps and bites at his bottom lip, harder than she means to, and he hisses. Pulling back she searches for his eyes, but they’re full of lust. His fingers still just teasing into her vulva, he tongues a spot on his lip as his finger returns to her clit once more, this time circling it once, twice, she can’t count anymore. Mitch pulls her in hard for a kiss, shoving his tongue in her mouth and swallowing her moans. Her hands clutch at whatever they can reach, one on the harness of his jumpsuit and the other at the back of his head, fingers grasping at his hair.</p><p>He presses a finger along the length of her slit and then eases a knuckle into her cunt, and her hips buck toward him, encouraging him deeper. He curls his finger inward and brushes against that spot that makes her toes curl. Pulling away from his lips and gasping, she rests her forehead on his, then tilts his head and licks at the skin along his throat, tasting crystalized sweat on her tongue. He tastes like desert and engines and musk. Made feral by his scent, she growls and sucks a mark into the tender skin just above his collarbone—she is rewarded with a moan and another finger, and a rhythm of shallow thrusts that alternate with deeper ones that linger and bear down on that spot.</p><p>She releases his skin and licks her way up the other side of his neck, paying special attention to the lines of cyberware along his jaw, until she reaches his ear where she nips at the lobe. He gives a particularly hard thrust in return, his hand banging into her pubic bone, and she gasps into his ear, “God yes, fuck me, Mitch!”</p><p>His response is immediate, adding another finger and increasing his speed. V can’t tell where her cunt ends and his fingers begin, how much of the movement is her rocking against him and him fucking her back. He moans when she shoves her hand between them, slicks her fingers by sliding them along his as he pumps them in and out, and rubs her clit. </p><p>“Cum for me,” Mitch breathes, twining his other hand in her hair and pulling her mouth to his.</p><p>His exhortation takes her over the edge. Her body tenses for one brief second as every nerve in her body lights up, sending direct currents to her pussy, and then her body starts to tremble. He holds her mouth against his while she comes and, when her face goes slack, he pulls her head back, feathering kisses along her neck while his fingers continue to work through her orgasm. </p><p>As the waves begin to subside, she pulls her hand from between them and drops it on his chest. Now that she is lucid again she kisses him hard, her tongue pushing into his waiting mouth.</p><p>His fingers, which had slowed their pace alongside hers, pump with renewed vigor from the heat of her kiss. The meat of his thumb brushes up against her clit and settles into a groove with the rest of his hand while she finds her own cadence and grinds against him. As overstimulated as she is from the first orgasm, her second arrives with little warning.</p><p>Her thighs tighten and clench against his legs and she grabs at his harness, holding onto whatever she can as the waves of pleasure rock her body and threaten to pull her under. He buries her face in his neck then wraps his arm tight around her shoulders as her orgasm explodes into the feedback system. The pleasure is so intense that V’s optics tremble and flicker to a black screen, and she thinks for a second that the biochip might explode—if this is how she dies, she is fine with it and suspects Johnny will be, too—until she blinks and her sight returns, and she realizes the chip didn’t explode, but she has drooled all over the cowl of Mitch’s coveralls.</p><p>For a few seconds the cabin is silent except for their labored breath. He shifts below her, trying to free his arm, so she raises up on one elbow, supporting herself on the headrest. He pulls his fingers from her vulva with a lewd pop, then raises his hand to his face, inhales deeply, eyes heavy with lust. A violent blush floods her face and she’s glad to be backlit by the console, until it creeps into the feedback system. With a smirk he opens his mouth, slides his fingers in and cleans them thoroughly, tongue slurping greedily. Her cunt clenches in response and desire floods the channel from both directions.</p><p>“You really didn’t have to stop.” Her breath is ragged, and she licks her lips.</p><p>“’Fraid I did,” Mitch says. The hunger in his eyes affirms his regret. “This wrist tires out a lot easier than it used to.” </p><p>“Better use the other one next time.”</p><p>“Next time, huh,” he answers, eyes crinkling. “Anything you want.”</p><p>The growl in his voice makes her guts tremble but when she jams her hand between them in search of his cock, he intercepts her hand and kisses her knuckles.</p><p>“Sorry, gonna need a minute to catch my breath. Old man problems.” She looks at him, confused, and then her mouth makes a small o in comprehension as he says, “Quite a dry spell you just broke.”</p><p>“Did I—did you come, too?”</p><p>Mitch hums then says, “With all that feedback, barely held on the first time you came, and you just felt too good the second time.”</p><p>Heady at the thought of him being unable to prevent his own orgasm, another wave of desire floods her, and the muscles of her vagina clench, sparking an aftershock that makes her legs tremble.</p><p>“I felt <em>that</em>, too,” he says, smirking. “Grab a smoke?”</p><p>“’Course,” V says, and wiggles her pants over her hips as Mitch opens the hatch. They both jackout, then Mitch helps leverage her to stand and follows her out. </p><p>Standing on the hull of the panzer, V drinks in the cool desert air. Two of the wrecks smolder in the dirt ahead of them, the third still blazing. Mitch drops to the edge, legs dangling off the side, and pulls out his smokes. She sits down beside him, close, almost touching. He cautiously wraps his prosthetic arm around her waist and she leans into his side, encouraging his grip to tighten. He raises his opposite hand and the cigarette in offering. Rather than take it from him, she brings his whole hand to her mouth to take a drag and feels him shiver as her lips brush his fingers. The smoke sears her throat and expands in her lungs, then she exhales and watches it dissipate in the night sky. They sit in silence, V’s head mercifully free of thoughts.</p><p>“Well, that was certainly not where I expected my night to go,” Mitch says after some time.</p><p>“Probably gonna die tomorrow,” V says with a shrug and a laugh. “Seemed like a good idea.”</p><p>“How many people didja have to cross off your list before you got to me, though?”</p><p>“Just Panam. Still not interested,” V says. </p><p>He shifts to look at her but she watches the flames licking the empty carcass of a car, a Coyote if she has to guess. </p><p>“Find <em>that</em> hard to believe.”</p><p>“What, that she’s not interested?” She knows that’s not what he means, but she’s not ready for this conversation, not at all.</p><p>He takes a drag before correcting her. “There’s no one else on that list besides Pan.”</p><p>V can tell him the truth, that the list is the Venn diagram of people who care deeply about her and people she wants to fuck. She can be vulnerable with him, but she doesn’t yet trust herself with these thoughts, much less another human. Even if that human is the most reliable one she knows.</p><p>With a smirk she says, “You were closest in proximity.”</p><p>Mitch laughs—she suspects he sees through it since he’s also adept at wielding humor as a shield—but he doesn’t push her for more.</p><p>After another short silence and a couple more drags, he stubs the cigarette out on the hull and flicks it into the darkness. Turning to look at her, he raises his organic hand and runs his thumb along her jaw, ear to chin, coaxing her face toward him. </p><p>Once he has her attention he asks, “So, that next time. You want that sooner or later?”</p><p>The smoldering in her core rekindles at his words and she licks her lips. “Here?”</p><p>He shakes his head. “This was a good test run but I got another idea.”</p><p>In an instant, V is standing. She throws out her hand for him and hauls him to his feet. He’s grinning; whether at her unnecessary show of impatience or strength she doesn’t know, but she knows how it makes her feel.</p><p>The drive back to camp is a feedback loop of lust. Neither reaches for the other, as if drawing the same conclusion independently—that any further touch would impede their return to camp—and V spends the entirety of the trip with her thighs mashed together, trying to focus on controlling the vehicle. All of her nerves ablaze, she yanks the plug from her head as soon she turns control over to Mitch and pops the hatch before the Basilisk has stopped.</p><p>“What’s this idea you got?” V asks as soon he drops down to the ground beside her.</p><p>Mitch grabs her by the waist and crushes her against the panzer, his tongue pushing into her mouth and shifting against her so that one of his thighs presses between hers. Reluctantly she pulls back from the kiss, so instead he moves his mouth to her ear, teeth grazing the studs lining the cartilage and she arches against him.</p><p>“Not sure fucking me against the Basilisk is a good idea,” she gasps out.</p><p>“Nah, it’s a great one,” Mitch growls into her ear. “But not tonight. Let’s take a drive.”</p><p>He steps back from her, his erection a stark outline in the taut fabric of his coveralls. V’s mouth waters at the sight and now she’s reconsidering the ‘fucking V against the Basilisk’ plan because now all she really wants is to get her hands on that dick. As if reading her mind, Mitch smirks and adjusts his hard-on.</p><p>He turns towards camp and impulsively V slides her hand into his silicone one. He slows his stride, glancing down at their hands then back up at her face, and his eyes crinkle into a soft smile. </p><p>They don’t have far to go. Mitch stops in front of one of the Thornton pickups parked at the edge of camp and turns to face her. “Gonna grab a couple things from my tent. Wait here?”</p><p>“’Course,” V says.</p><p>He raises her hand to his face and presses a kiss to her palm. The look he gives her after—that smirk but brimming with desire—makes her want to wait there for him forever.</p><p>Leaning against the pickup, V watches him walk into camp, presumably towards his tent. The flare of a cigarette in the dark catches her eye, interrupting her rumination on Mitch’s mystery destination. She flips on the scanner and spots Cassidy leaning against a truck about 10 meters away. He must have seen her own red flash when the scanner lit up because he tips his hat to her. Which means he probably saw Mitch’s parting kiss. Shutting off the scanner she shoots him finger guns then pushes herself up on the hood.</p><p>She likes Cassidy—he’s always been straight with her. While V has never taken him to be a gossip, she has no idea what he’ll do with this information. S<em>he</em> doesn’t particularly care what anyone says about who she fucks, but she’s not the only one who’ll be affected by talk. As one of the oldest members of the family and a de facto part of leadership, Mitch might care about his reputation. Banging the new recruit the night before the crazy mission said new recruit volunteered everyone for? Might not be the look he wants.</p><p>Mitch seems to be taking his time, so V leans back on the hood of the Colby, hands linked behind her head, and looks up at the sky. She can get used to the stars. Wherever they end up after this, she hopes she can see them. She tries to remember the constellations she saw on a vid once, but the sky just looks like a white speckles of paint splattered on a black canvas to her. Misty probably has books in her shop, maybe she can pick one up next time she’s home. Her heart aches as she wonders if there will be a next time.</p><p>Before the pang can settle in her chest, she hears shuffling along the path from camp. She sits up to find Mitch grinning as he approaches, large duffel bag in hand. He tosses the bag in the bed of the truck before joining her around front. </p><p>“Half thought you’d be gone,” he says. He’s got that not-quite smile that she noticed earlier and she wonders if that’s the ‘can’t get enough’ look that Panam told her about. The idea makes her stomach flip-flop as much as the look.</p><p>While she considers the expression on his face, Mitch steps toward her, as if to slot himself in between her legs. Placing her hands on his chest, she slows his momentum. He should be aware they are being observed before making any intimate gestures.</p><p>“Didn’t want Cassidy to think less of me,” she says, gesturing with her chin over his shoulder.</p><p>“That so? Better get him a thank you card,” he says before turning around and peering into the dark.</p><p>“Nice night for it,” Cassidy calls out from his position. Mitch throws up the middle fingers of both hands and waves them at the night. Cassidy’s rich laugh echoes in response.</p><p>“Get outta here?” she asks, plucking at the shoulder of his jumpsuit.</p><p>Cassidy immediately forgotten, Mitch steps forward between her knees, grabs her hips and pulls her against him, wrapping her legs around his waist and gazing up into her face with such naked passion that V grabs his face with both hands and kisses him, her tongue plunging into his mouth. His hands slide under her jacket, under her tank, greedily devouring any skin he can reach. Without breaking the kiss he steps back, pulling her off the truck only to pin her against it once her feet touch ground.</p><p>“Now he’s got something to talk about. Let’s go,” Mitch says when he finally pulls back, before turning her toward the passenger side and slapping her ass. V squeals and hops away, her questions answered and spirits buoyed.</p><p>The Colby is clean inside, much cleaner than the Avenger she’s been driving these days with its floorboards full of empty bottles and vending machine wrappers. Mitch circles east around camp then drives north through the desert, his profile backlit by the blazing colors of Night City. Draping her arm along the back of the cab, V gently scratches her nails along the back of his scalp, pleased when he sighs and leans into it.</p><p>“Careful, gonna put me to sleep, you keep that up,” Mitch says, glancing over in the dark. “Don’t think that’s what you’re looking to do.”</p><p>“Sure I'll find a way to wake you up.” </p><p>Biting his lip, Mitch grabs her knee and runs his hand all the way up to the apex of her legs, squeezing the juicy flesh of her inner thigh when he reaches the top. When the Colby hits a dune that rattles them like pinballs inside the cab, he pulls his hand back with a sheepish grin and instead focuses on keeping all four wheels on the sand.</p><p>“Where we going?”</p><p>“Some place I found while back, it’s quiet. Figured you might not want to keep the camp up all night.” He shoots her a grin before turning back to the landscape.</p><p>“Already got enough reasons to hate me,” she says with a smirk, but she’s touched by his thoughtfulness.</p><p>“Nah, nobody hates you.”</p><p><em>Not yet</em>, she thinks but instead focuses on Mitch’s scalp beneath her fingertips and the desert rolling by outside. She’ll consider the fallout when that nuke goes off.</p><p>A few minutes later Mitch parks the truck and they step out onto a small plateau. The city looms to the west, the suburbs glitter in the east, and a spray of stars overhead. She’s certain she has never seen this view of Night City before.</p><p>The tailgate creaks as Mitch drops it open and grabs the duffel bag. V leans against the side and watches as he unzips the bag and pulls out a cylinder of fabric, then tosses the bag at the bulkhead. The cylindrical mass turns out to be a blanket and a self-inflating pad that conforms to the space.</p><p>He arranges them then turns to her with a diffident smile. “Not the most elegant solution.”</p><p>“It’s perfect,” she says before joining him and pulling him down for a soft kiss. “Thank you.”</p><p>For a moment she’s afraid Mitch’s going to ask her for what, and even more afraid of how she will answer—for touching her with such gentleness; for preventing her from spending what might be her last night alone, or with just anyone; for caring. Between her impending death and the life-altering orgasm he just gave her, V’s not sure what will tumble from her lips.</p><p>Instead of speaking, Mitch takes her face in both hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks—she’s sure he sees through her facade, that his blue eyes penetrate her soul— and he gazes until she can’t take it anymore. But before she can look away he’s kissing her, gentle at first but then his hands slide down her neck and through the opening of her leather jacket groping at her breasts over her tank and his kiss grows urgent, his mouth opening and encouraging hers with his tongue. </p><p>As much as she’s enjoying just kissing him, she’s relieved when his fingers move to the collar of her brand-new Aldecaldo’s jacket and ease it over her shoulders, and he only breaks the kiss when he can pull the it free from her arms. Mitch gives the jacket as much consideration as he’s given her. He matches the shoulders of the jacket and lines up the cuffs of the sleeves, then folds the it in half and hangs it over the side of the truck.</p><p>“’S a nice jacket,” she says.</p><p>“Looks good on you.” There’s that smile again. She blushes.</p><p>Returning his attention to V, Mitch grabs her hips then brings his hands—steady and firm, just like she showed him—up her sides until he reaches the edge of her tank. “Get rid of this, too?”</p><p>“Mitch, you can do anything you want to me,” she breathes.</p><p>At her words his arms snake around her, one hand burying itself in her hair and bringing her in for a hard kiss, the other sliding down to grab at the juicy meat of her ass.</p><p>“I’ll start a list,” he says before pulling the tank up and over her head and tossing it into the bed of the truck. </p><p>The fire in his eyes makes her quiver. He gazes at her, drinks her up before he touches her, his hands reverently cupping her breasts, thumbs drawing circles around her budding nipples, the contrasting sensations between the rough organic and smooth synthetic skin short-circuiting her brain as she tries to process them. </p><p>Mitch leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, his ’ganic hand tweaking the other. She leans into him, one hand threading into his hair, the other clutching at the harness on his shoulder as his tongue teases at the tight bud. When his mouth moves away to tend the other nipple and his saliva dries in the cool air, she gasps and throws her head back, eyes feasting on the stars above.</p><p>When he’s had enough of her breasts, Mitch finds her mouth again and his hands move to unbutton her pants but V stops him. She wants more of <em>him</em>.</p><p>“Need to even things out a little,” she says, her voice husky as her fingers work at the clasp of his harness, and he assists her efforts by handling the top clasp. She tries to unhook the big one at the bottom of his ribcage and growls when she can’t figure it out. “What’s the point of this thing, even?”</p><p>Mitch laughs, pushing her hands away, unsnapping the buckle with ease. “For hanging tools n’ shit. Don’t worry, get one with your welcome packet.”</p><p>V grabs the zipper, pulls it down to his belly, and shoves the fabric over his shoulders, revealing a clean, white t-shirt underneath. He shrugs out of the jumpsuit and ties the arms around his waist.</p><p>She runs her hands across his shoulders and down his chest. The soft cotton hugs his frame, and her fingers twitch the sharp lines where the shirt was recently folded. She tugs it free and eases her hands underneath, his muscles quivering as her fingers make contact with his skin. She looks up at his face—pupils dilated, mouth open and breath coming fast. His hands hang at his side, fingers fidgeting. She pushes the t-shirt up, exposing a pale belly covered in coarse, dark hair. His abs and obliques dance beneath the skin she touches.</p><p>She places open-mouthed kisses over his stomach and rib cage, swirls her tongue around his nipple, and his chest rumbles under her lips. She can still taste oil and sweat but now it’s layered with something else—an earthy, woody scent. He must have taken a sponge bath when he picked up the bedding. Explains the fresh shirt, too. Once V pushes the shirt up to his armpits he takes over, chest bowing and abdomen rippling as he twists the fabric overhead. With a flick of his wrist, the shirt joins hers in the truck bed.</p><p>It’s her turn to stare dumbly. She can’t remember seeing Mitch outside of the jumpsuit before, because surely she would have noticed. He is lean and strong, with a shadow of definition in his pecs and abs, perfectly shaded with a dusting of dark hair. She’d always wondered how much of his arm was synthetic—the smooth seam between flesh and machine starts at the edge of his collarbone and she wants to taste it—and while his ’ganic bicep might not be able to compete with others, for his build it’s impressive. Her mouth waters.</p><p>At last her gaze returns to his face and her heart melts at the plaintive softness in his blue eyes, as if waiting for her judgement and expecting to be found lacking. She skims her hands up his chest, fingers splayed to touch as much skin as possible, until they link behind his neck.</p><p>“Damn, Mitch. Warn a girl,” V says as she pulls him down for a kiss.</p><p>He crushes her against him and the skin-to-skin contact feeds the raging fire in her cunt. This time when his nimble fingers reach for the buttons of her pants she lets him proceed. Hooking his thumbs over her panties, he pushes both over her hips. He lifts her to the tailgate as if she weighs nothing, and she leans back on her hands, lips parted, nipples taut as he works. He pulls off her sneakers and chucks them behind her, each clanging against the truck bed in turn, then he removes her pants and tosses them onto the growing pile. He stands back and a wave of goosebumps courses over her skin, part from the night air, part from the wonder in Mitch’s eyes.</p><p>“Aren’t you something else,” he murmurs.</p><p>Her legs fall open for him as he steps to her. He pulls her against him, and she drinks in the warmth from his skin as she stretches along his torso and wraps her arms around his neck. The rough fabric of his jumpsuit scratches at the flesh of her thighs and heightens her sensation. He eases her back, laying open-mouthed kisses from her chin to her sternum, slowing his downward progress to tend to her breasts, tongue on one and hand on the other, before resuming his journey and drawing his mouth along the contours of her ribs and the plane of her stomach. </p><p>When he nips at her hip bone, she bucks but his strong hands keep her in place. Those strong hands then yank her forward until her tailbone is on the edge, and he kneels before her, hooks her legs over his shoulders. Propping herself on her elbows, V meets his eyes and finds those of a predator staring down his prey—he is going to devour her, and he does.</p><p>Mitch goes for the meat of her thigh first, sucking a mark into the delicate skin. She squirms but his arms—the mechanical one in particular—keep her from pulling away from his assault. When she feels his hot breath on her slit she whimpers, and when his thumbs part her swollen labia she keens. With the tip of his tongue he licks a stripe from end to end, circles gently around her clit. He dips into her vulva, lapping at her with a wide swath of tongue. He swirls around her clit then sucks it into his mouth. She arches and he pulls her flush against his face, one of her hands twining in his hair as he rips a moan from her lungs.</p><p>While she’s still reeling from his mouth, Mitch slips two silicone fingers into her vulva and curls them upward, brushing against that spot he found earlier, and that’s all she needs to be propelled over the edge once more. V arches against him, lost in his mouth and fingers and the expanse of stars overhead, her orgasm another supernova in the Milky Way.</p><p>V lays on the bed of the truck, panting and staring up at the stars, lost in a fog of chemicals. She’s aware of Mitch asking her if she’s okay and she manages a thumbs-up. She feels him lower her legs and push her back so she isn’t dangling off the tailgate. She knows he steps away because suddenly the cool air assaults her dripping folds, and the sensation kickstarts her brain. She sits up and finds him hopping around on one leg, fighting against his clothes.</p><p>“Need some help?” </p><p>“Need new fuckin’ laces,” he grunts before standing triumphantly, offending boot in hand. </p><p>In short order he discards both boots. His eyes are on her as his hands move to the jumpsuit tied around his waist. He seems nervous, though she can’t imagine why after the evening they’ve already spent together.</p><p>“Better hurry up,” she says, giving her best approximation of a sultry look. “Keeping a lady waiting.”</p><p>V expects a retort. Instead Mitch gives her a shy smile and complies, shucking off the rest of his clothes and unveiling the rest of himself. She registers his strong calves and thighs but all she can see is the nice, thick cock standing at attention between those legs.</p><p>“Get over here,” she says, biting her lip.</p><p>“Don’t gotta ask me twice.”</p><p>As he climbs the truck bed, V pulls him in for a kiss with one hand and skims the other down the taut muscles of his abdomen, her mouth swallowing his groans as her fingers wrap around his shaft. His hips stutter as she rubs her thumb over the head, smearing the viscous precum over the soft skin. She wraps her legs around him, urging him closer. He slips his hand between them and his fingers just into her folds, slicking them with her moisture and spreading it over the head of his cock.</p><p>“Mitch,” V whimpers. “Please.”</p><p>“You want this?” His voice is husky as he lines up and teases into her slit. </p><p>“Please, yes,” she is pleading now, “fuck me.”</p><p>Without hesitation he plunges into her and bottoms out, and V scrabbles at his back with a deep moan. Kissing her neck and palming a breast, Mitch gives her a moment to adjust, but once she starts rocking her hips against him, he drives into her at an electrifying pace. V pulls him in for a kiss, shoving her tongue into his waiting mouth, and the other hand paws at his ass—<em>Jesus, his ass is tight</em>—persuading him faster. In response he grabs her thigh and coaxes her leg up higher over his hip, and with the change in angle he slams against that spot that makes her see stars, over and over again, and the pleasure builds. No one has ever fucked her like this, not ever, not even close.</p><p>“God, V,” Mitch moans against her mouth, and she knows he’s close to his own orgasm. “Where—where d’ya want—”</p><p>“Inside,” V answers, breathless.</p><p>His thrusts growing more urgent, Mitch licks his fingers, shoves his hand between them, and finds her swollen clit, his name a prayer on her lips as she comes again under his fingers. He’s right behind her, burying his face in her neck and body shuddering until he’s spent.</p><p>They stay like that for a few moments, V’s legs threaded about his, his face tucked against her shoulder and cock softening within, until Mitch frees his hands to cradle her face.</p><p>After a gentle kiss he asks, “How ya doing?”</p><p>“Nova,” she says, running her hand through his hair, and gives him a smile that shows she means it.</p><p>Mitch rolls off her and stretches toward the cab for the duffel bag from which he pulls out a smaller bag. V turns onto her side, watching with interest. Inside the other bag are a couple of bottles of electrolyte water and assorted snacks. Sitting up, she gratefully accepts the bottle he passes—her throat is raw from screaming his name.</p><p>“Hungry?”</p><p>“Probably puke it up anyway,” V says with a shake of the head. Frowning, he cups her face and she leans into his hand, the warmth a comfort against the cool air. “’S okay. This is great, just what I needed.”</p><p>She raises the bottle, sloshes the contents around. The smile he gives her makes her chest seize, heart skip, breath catch—he knows she means more than the water. She kisses him quick and brings the bottle to her lips in an excuse to look away.</p><p>Mitch snakes an arm around her shoulders once they’ve both drunk their fill, pulling her into the crook of his shoulder. With the other arm he reaches over her to grasp the edge of the blanket, then wraps them in a cocoon.</p><p>“Hope this’s okay.”</p><p>She hums in response. More than okay. His chest rises and falls under her cheek, lulling her with the rhythm while he traces her neck and shoulders with his fingertips. She could fall asleep right now. This is the most content she’s felt since before Konpeki—</p><p>Rolling onto her back, she grabs Mitch’s hand from her shoulder and clutches it to her chest. Her eyes burn and she wills the tears away, as if that will stop them. Might as well try to stop the earth from spinning.</p><p>After a few moments he asks, “You okay?”</p><p>Tears that have been threatening to overflow now well up and spill onto her cheeks. They fall silently. She’s sobbed enough.</p><p>“Don’t think so.” For once, she is honest.</p><p>The admission makes him sit up. Mitch pulls his arm free just enough to prop himself on the elbow and cradle her head while the other hand finds hers where they lay on her breast.</p><p>“Wanna talk about it?”</p><p>V studies his face, half shadow, half moonlit. He is handsome, now that she’s looking for it—once broken Roman nose, full, expressive lips, slate blue eyes now full of concern, the scar exaggerated by the shadows. How could she have missed this, missed <em>him</em>? So much time wasted.</p><p>She loosens one of her hands, cupping his face, thumb stroking his beard. She doesn’t know how to answer—Jackie, Konpeki, Scorpion, all the people she’s lost, all the shit she’s done to get to this moment. It’s too much.</p><p>He brushes the tears from her cheeks when she doesn’t respond. “Don’t have to. I know it’s a lot.”</p><p>As if turning on a tap, the tears flow hot down her cheeks and her chest heaves. Mitch reels her into his embrace, fingers twisting into the hair at the nape of her neck, the others stroking along her spine, and he soothes her with whispers and kisses pressed against her forehead. </p><p>As it leaves her system, V’s sobs slowly change to hiccups, until at last she stills. She thinks Mitch would hold her like this forever, and so she lets him, at least till she feels able to confront her reality again.</p><p>“Guess I needed that, too,” she says with a laugh, rubbing at her eyes with the heel of a hand. </p><p>“Listen, V,” Mitch says, tilting her face so she has to look at him. His expression is so sincere, so ardent, she already believes whatever he’s about to say. “Gonna get you into Mikoshi. You know that, right?”</p><p>“I do,” she says then kisses him. He breaks the kiss to pull her into a crushing hug, smoothing her hair, and again kissing her forehead. After a few seconds he releases her.</p><p>“So,” Mitch starts, hesitates. “You wanna get back to camp? I mean—” another hesitation, “we could stay out here if you wanna, but I gotta get back real early. Gotta get everybody up n’ ready to roll.”</p><p>“Here’s good.” </p><p>“Great!” he exclaims, whipping the blanket off and jumping to his feet. He digs through the pile of clothes then tosses her her underwear and shirt, but she’s visibly confused. “Aha, your first lesson as a nomad. Never sleep naked. Gotta be ready to run in case there’s a storm.”</p><p>“Bummer,” she says, dragging her eyes down his body and back up to his face. His cheeks color at the attention, but he stands a little straighter as he pulls on his shorts, black boxer briefs that highlight the curve of his glutes.</p><p>V shimmies into her clothes and wraps the blanket around herself again, welcoming Mitch when he returns. She buries her face in his chest as his arms wrap around her.</p><p>“G’night, kid,” he says with one more kiss to her forehead.</p><p>“Mitch?” she asks, and his hum reverberates against her ear. “Couldya stop with the ‘kid?’ Feels a little, I dunno, weird. Not <em>that</em> much older than me.”</p><p>“Gotta disagree,” his chest rumbles with a laugh, “but whatever you want, doll. How’s that?”</p><p>V laughs. “Better, I guess?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to all the lovely discord folks who helped me find the right word or phrase when I was stuck, or provided a second opinion when needed—there's too many of you who have helped over the last two weeks to remember, but I love you all! ❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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